Throughout middle and high school, my sisters and I took piano lessons. Mr. W would come to our house and we would each have an hour long piano lesson in the basement. Mr. W was a brilliant pianist and composer. So much so that he would stay up al night playing and composing. Hence, he would come to piano lessons exhausted. Inevitably within five minutes of the lesson he would be sound asleep. Not knowing what to do, I would just sit there at the piano not playing for the remainder of the hour. When it was time for the lesson to end, I would just slam down on the piano keys to wake him up. He would then suddenly (of course) wake up and try and pretend like he had been listening the whole time and say “Good… great… wonderful job… well that’s about it for today.” And that is how I got through years of piano lessons and can only play Mary Had a Little Lamb.